


we’re gonna photosynthesize and drink up the sunrise

by light_rises



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Beach Trip, F/M, Land of Light and Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 09:18:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/light_rises/pseuds/light_rises
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ok, you've caught me, I'm as much a victim of unpreparedness. Should I move forward with putting together a pithy blog post to the tune of 'We suck at beach trips'?"</p><p>(Wherein two gods kick back and flirt inelegantly.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	we’re gonna photosynthesize and drink up the sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> Spurred on by [this lovely art](http://saccharinescorpion.tumblr.com/post/71721044235).

At the end of it all, the new beginning you're left to maintain -- subsets thereof including, but not limited to: environmental fine-tuning, nudge-and-wink societal cultivation, preventing the establishment of certain ilks of sacrificial worship (YIKES) -- is more expansive and wondrous than you had ever imagined. Not to mention more _goddamn dreary_.

Literal worldbuilding is hard. It's hard, and enough to drive the gods into cloistered respites on dead worlds.

Well, sort of. You're at Lolar this time, and what a difference actually doing your quest homework has made. Oceans teeming with life abundant, consorts going about their lives with both less and more trepidation -- less since you aren't systemically destorying their landmarks anymore and _my_ the new breadth of job market possibilities! More because now there's Stuff in the water that could eat them. What fauna you've managed to see for yourself straddle recognizability and funhouse-grade fuckery in new and exciting ways.

You think the you of four years ago would appreciate this payoff for all the cutesy-wootsy she'd had to put up with on this iridescent dewdrop of a planet. (Or she would, perhaps, have put up a healthy front along those lines.) Right now you're just glad for the company, because John Egbert couldn't give a single whipping bugwinged fuckall about the fact that there's a whole school of parakeet-headed pipefish brushing against his ankles like they're an armada and he's the fucking Colossus of Rhodes.

man, these little guys are lively... He's waded a little over ten yards out from shore, or at least ten yards from your end of the lagoon. It's enough that he's knee-deep in rainbow bright damp. this is practically bathwater, rose!

Should I take that as a positive? You're situated some feet or so from the gentle tide tugging at the sands in front of you.

uh, yeah?? i'm surprised you haven't come in yet, this is really nice.

I'd wager I'm more surprised that you galloped in without so much as considering a change of clothes.

... to be fair, we sorta planned badly in that respect. John's smile goes lopsided and not without its share of sheepishness.

"We", I'd further wager, is a tad presumptuous here. You smile too, not unkindly (he sticks out his tongue at you anyway). Ok, you've caught me, I'm as much a victim of unpreparedness. Should I move forward with putting together a pithy blog post to the tune of "We suck at beach trips"?

only if you're ok with dave getting his smug all over it once it's posted.

So long as we're able to strike back in that event, I'm not exactly fussed.

pffff. fair enough. His smile relaxes a touch as he hunkers down, settling into a squat. you know, if you're worried about your pjs getting soaked and such, i can take care of that.

And because he's John he goes on to demonstrate, even though he knows you know precisely what he's talking about and that he can do it. He directs the Breeze to carve into the water surrounding the length of godhood trailing behind him, using same-said once it's lifted to wring it dry in midair. Just a few twists, wind-wrought and deft (his hands mirror the action too). Then he leaves it to twine into a lazy spiral, air-buoyant.

It was perfectly superfluous, but you won't lie about it being neat to watch.

The grin he shoots at you closes the case on how much he's aware of this, so you add an eyeroll to your applause.

Nice. Though I wonder at the fact that you didn't just... well. Phase your hood into the Breeze then reconstitute it bone-dry, as it were.

_His_ eyeroll is borderline spectacular.  rooose, that would be cheating here! and it'd be kind of dumb to demonstrate something i can't do with you, really.

...

...

... Are you so certain?

You make sure to lean forward and waggle your eyebrows as conspicuously as possible. You are not want for satisfaction when John's ears go from pink to carmine to beet red in five seconds flat.

it. tha. He stands up, sloughing off a whole mess of not-pipefish that had gathered in his lap. that's --

"That's" what, John? You're pretty sure you've subsumed all of Dave's potential smugness about this sitch and made it your own. Aww yeah.

John averts his eyes a moment, adam's apple at work. Then: that. is something that could be arranged.

...

...

...

if you would like, i mean! that's totally your --

You hold up a hand.

Then: ... Ok.

You touch off sand, glide three feet above water, stop one foot away from John. Sink down far just enough to be at eye-level. This has been a rare view ever since puberty turned him into a bear of a boy, all not-quite-seven-feet of him, all stout and muscle. All _John_ , wayward freckles and acne scarring, dimples and teeth that aren't much wonkier than yours, really, he's just not able to hide them as well.

While he's busy finding your nose Very Interesting, you take in the outer boundaries of his face. He's angles and near-sharp at the jawline, set of his brows and chin. Soft everywhere else. You wonder at how much is in transition and how much is set, then tamp down on a swallow when your eyes flick to the stern hollow between his collar bones.

He clears his throat. so.

So. Eye contact and impassivity reschooled into place? Yeah. Awesome.

this might be stating the obvious, but... John reaches back to scratch the nape of his neck. well. it's kind of hard to dry you off when you are still not exactly --

Fold your arms; try not to look at his hand.

Three,  
                                   two,  
                                                                      on

The torrent bears down on you a half-second early.

_\-- soaked!!_

He laughs and you drop the rest of the way. Performing the splits underwater must not have been part of the plan, because he catches and tries to steady you and he's _still laughing_ , the bastard.

He stops long enough to ask, you ok there, rose? A pause, after which his voice drops for a, wait, for real, are you --

That's when you look up at him long enough to confirm that, yes, that WAS silent laughter, you giant goddamn goober.

It stops being silent because the jig is pretty much up. I. God, I saw that coming before I flitted over here, John! You give him a light smack on the chest, fingers pressed to blue like the dark flora stretching towards the sky around you.

He verges on a pout before his lips go a bit thin. ... rose. be honest. was that all seery power stuff, or did i totally telegraph that?

You hmmm, looking to the length of skirt that's fanned across the water to your right, folds neat and haphazard both. Your other hand reaches to grasp the collar of John's hood, gently, as your gaze follows it. Being honest here? I don't think I'm the best judge of that.

His brows arch upward. really?

The signs distinct from my normal intuition aren't always... delineated very well, on my end. You shift your stance (which may or may not have strategically shifted one of John's hands a tic southward. Hehehehe). In short: Shit's kind of weird.

pssssh. when _hasn't_ shit been weird? John's fingers twitch where you've moved them, and his eyes go beseeching as they dart between yours and some ill-defined downward trajectory.

You grin and nod assent as you reply: Not for a long time.

And -- you think as John plunges you both for a dunk -- the company you keep along the way will manage to make that perfectly adequate.


End file.
